Devotion
by seaweedfma
Summary: Riza understands that devotion can take many forms. Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye  kinda UST , mentions of others. Rated T just in case. Spoilers for the end of the anime/manga. Done for the LJ FMA Fic Contest #57, the theme was mismatched pairs. It didnt win


This was done for the FMA_Fic_Contest here on LJ. It was prompt 57, "Mismatched Pairs". Nope, didn't win.

**Title:** Devotion

**Author:** Seaweed_FMA

**Series:** Manga

**Word Count:** 1225

**Rating:** PG

**Characters: ** Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, mentions of others.

**Summary:** Devotion can take many forms.

**Warnings:** Spoilers for the entirety of the manga up to now.

As much as time seemed to stand still when the Promised Day came, it flew past after everything was over. And when they staggered out of the hellhole under Central Command., bloody, bruised, and blinded, there was no celebrating. It was a more of a collective '_what now_?'

For Roy, his 'what now' consisted of trying to figure out how to get his life back together. He knew as soon as the fighting was over that he would never become Fuhrer, and that Father was right. He would never see what became of his beloved country.

He would never see anything, ever again.

Spring passed into Summer, and then Fall arrived. A new coalition of leaders was named to lead Amestris. The laws that they passed ensured that no one person would have as much power as Bradley had amassed. And Roy was stuck on the sidelines- out of the military and doomed to get his information second or third hand.

Roy had fought tooth and nail to not be forced to go into a soldier's retirement home while he re-learned how to live his life. When Hawkeye said that she would help him so he would be able to live in his own home, he knew that he was lucky that he had someone who would help him get back on his feet- someone who put up with him when he got so frustrated that he threw his boots across the room when he couldn't get them on as fast as he used to.

To Hawkeye, it was never a question that she would help him. She had made a promise to protect him, and immediately knew that it also meant protecting him from himself.

The day that she and Roy walked into his small house, the very first thing she did was to hide his whiskey, guns, and gloves. She remembered how much of a wreck he had been after Maes Hughes- his best friend and brother in arms, had died- and it had taken her time to nurse him back to health mentally afterward. She was ready to stay as long as she could to do it again.

Over time, the two of them fell into what could almost be called a normal routine. Hawkeye would let herself in at precisely 0700 hours, the morning paper in her hand. Assuming that Roy didn't throw the alarm clock off the bedside table- she had already replaced it 4 times- he should have been in the shower when she arrived. It took him a while to shower and get dressed, so she would have coffee and breakfast waiting by the time he came to the kitchen table in the clothes that she had helped him pick out the night before.

Breakfast was usually quiet, except for the times that Roy accidentally spilled coffee on himself and cursed out his pain and embarrassment. After breakfast, she would give him the highlights of the morning paper and any news that she had gotten through their former coworkers. She spoke with them every day and was as aware of what was going on at Central Command as if she was still working there.

Occasionally, after speaking to the men that used to be under Roy's command, she lamented her decision to leave the military. It had been all that she had known for so long. When Roy was forced to retire- due to both his 'injury' and to avoid a court martial- she followed him without a moment of hesitation. Did she regret retiring from the army? Not for a moment. There was never a doubt in her mind where her loyalties were.

When the news was done, it was time for therapy- Roy's least favorite part of the day. At first, a nurse had been coming to his house to teach him how to do the normal everyday things that sighted people took for granted every day. But his pride had put a kibosh on that rather quickly, and the former Colonel had insisted that between him and his Lieutenant, they could do it themselves.

And when Roy Mustang insisted on something, neither hell nor high water was going to stop him.

Hawkeye kept in touch with the therapy nurses after Roy stopped allowing them to invade his home. She continued to get their advice on how far Roy had come, and what he should do next. The former alchemist was smart enough to know that his Lieutenant was not suddenly an expert in therapy, but his pride was much less wounded knowing that it was she- not the nurses- who was getting him back on his feet.

Lunch always came after therapy, though by the end of the session Roy was usually so grumpy that he hardly ate or said a word. But still, his stoic Lieutenant soldiered on.

The afternoon usually consisted of whatever running around had to be done. That mean either getting groceries, or replacing whatever had been broken- either out of anger or accident. Roy refused to use a cane, or wear glasses that would hide his milky gray eyes. Instead he crooked his arm around his lieutenant's elbow and she helped guide him around, They didn't speak, except when she instructed him to step up on a curb or sidestep an object. Occasionally she would try to start up a conversation by telling him what street they were on, or point out something interesting, like the fact that the leaves on the trees on the sidewalks of Main Street were starting to burst into bright reds and oranges.

Roy moved slowly and carefully, and by the time the running around was done the sun dipped into the west. Dinner was usually a quick affair, and then they had light conversation while sipping tea before Roy retired for the evening. That gave Hawkeye just enough time to get home, take a shower, and let poor Hayate out before collapsing in bed- exhausted but ready to do it again the next morning.

'What an odd pair we are, like mismatched socks.' She thought one day, while soaking her aching muscles under the hottest shower water that she could stand. In all the months that she had been taking care of Roy, he had never told her "Thank you." It wasn't that she thrived on praise- she was used to not getting it as a woman in the military, especially under Roy's command. But sometimes she felt like she was in a one sided relationship.

Relationship, that was such a weird word to use.

Did she care for him? Yes, she did.

Did she love him? That was not quite as easy of a question to answer. She didn't like to think of her life without him, that's for sure. But was it a physical love that she could express in a soft kiss or a gentle touch? She wasn't sure.

Eventually her hot water turned tepid, and then finally ice cold. She stepped out, just as confused and unsure as she had been when she when she entered.

There were many things in her life that she wasn't sure of, but one thing was never a doubt in her mind- as long as Roy needed her, she would be there.

And if that wasn't love, then she didn't know what was.


End file.
